if you ask me (i'm ready)
by Lapis Love
Summary: Felt there was something missing in episode 7x06 following Bamon's revenge plan against Lily in 7x05? Something like a Bamon scene, perhaps. Well this one-shot takes care of that large oversight. Bonnie and Damon are comrades and when they make diabolical plans over bourbon it deepens their bond, solidifies their love and care for one another. Read to discover how.


**A/N: I have the hardest time trying to write a straightforward PWP. My mind won't let me do it as I have to incorporate some kind of a plot. To summarize this is me writing in a Bamon scene that should have been included in 7x06. However, I also wanted to expand Bonnie's flash forward. I've done things a bit differently. Flashbacks are usually told in italics but in this case the flash forward parts are italicized. Please note. Happy reading. *Lemons***

Disclaimer: These characters belong to LJ Smith/CW Network. OC's are mine. Copyright infringement is never intended.

* * *

Beau tickled the ivory keys occasionally scanning the milling crowd. At the moment he rather play something somber to fit his mood, but he knew Lily or Julian would command he play something joyous to fit the occasion. He rarely had a moment to do much for himself, and had to work to find time and ways to take pleasure uninterrupted.

So he continued to play the jazz number he memorized from over a hundred years ago. He doubted anyone here could name the composer much less the name of the song. They didn't seem refined in any manner. He listened to their conversations, strange sayings and phrases that made interpreting their meaning taxing. So Beau didn't even try. Besides it wasn't like he could hold a conversation with anyone to his frustration.

Beau had an abundance of words he would like to share, opinions he wished to debate, yet had to learn to express himself with certain expressions and body language.

He let out a sigh and closed his eyes losing himself in the music. In his mind he was dancing with his beloved that he had one perfect day with before...

Beau heard the dogs barking, could practically smell the gun powder of the muskets, the degrading taunts of the slavers searching for him, a free man they intended to sell into oppression. His brow crumbled and he found himself pressing harder on the keys making the song sound more ominous than it should. Beau inhaled a breath, held it before releasing it, shaking off the vines of a past too gruesome to think about.

When he opened his eyes, a petite brown skinned girl was sauntering toward him. For a moment he allowed himself more than a cursory glance. Beau knew who she was. A Bennett witch and friend to Lily's eldest son. The last time he saw a Bennett witch was the night he and his family were sent to a prison world. His eyes narrowed a bit.

Beau maintained playing the song impeccably while tramping down the urge to ready himself for anything. He had had limited contact with the young witch and wasn't really sure what to make of her. Lily had warned he and the others to be leery of her sons and their friends for they didn't like the fact they were dwelling here. Being seen as an outcast was nothing new to Beau, but he would heed Lily's advice.

Nevertheless, he regarded the witch finding her attire appropriate, her overall look beguiling; the hook to a fish.

Armed with a champagne flute she stopped at the base of the dais, smile on her face. "Beau, right?"

He inclined his head, eyebrow raised in question.

"I'm Bonnie. Friend of Damon's which might not be a glowing endorsement. He takes some getting used to," Bonnie shrugged. "Do you mind if I sit? These shoes," she glanced down at her feet. Beau did the same thinking she had nice toes. "They're cute but hurt like a bitch."

Beau took his eyes off her feet roving over the beaded detail of her dress, up the slender column of her neck, landing on her heart shaped face. He hitched his head to the right indicating she was free to sit down.

"Thanks," Bonnie stepped up the dais, skirted around the bench, and plopped down next to the heretic. She said nothing for a while content to watch Beau play.

Lily, who was conversing with one of the guests, did a double take seeing Bonnie and Beau together, a divot pierced between her arched brows. Her smile dimmed in wattage a bit.

Enzo, shoulder propped up along the wall, hand in his pocket sipped his bourbon, eyes on Bonnie. "What are you playing at little witch?" his head was still befuddled after their brief interlude, her fingers on his tie standing far closer than she ever stood to him before. It was a game, a ploy to help him garner Lily's attention, get a rise out of her, but Enzo couldn't figure out why Bonnie would even bother.

The why wasn't starting to matter so much as the possibility of it happening again. Yet Enzo tramped down the thought as his gaze briefly coasted along and landed on a particular Salvatore.

Across the room…His attention had been split all night. Volleying between the shot glass in his hand, the middle aged woman in front of him, Bonnie and the subtle looks she had been casting in Enzo's direction periodically. What was going on with _that_? Now she was cozying up to Beau? Damon's eye crinkled at the corner.

Beau finally finished the piece he had been playing amid soft applause. Bonnie used it as a chance to engage him as he started the next tune.

"Seeing you play reminds me of my dad."

Beau shot her a speculative look.

"One of the things he tried to teach me was how to play piano. I wasn't very good. My fingers…they wouldn't cooperate," Bonnie smooth a finger over a minor key but didn't press it down. "We didn't share much in common besides our blood. Did you have any children?"

Beau shook his head.

Bonnie sighed before taking a sip of her champagne. She studied the bubbles still rising to the surface. Using the glass as a mirror she saw Enzo watching her. Bonnie peeked at him over the rim, and quickly diverted her attention to Damon who had thrown surreptitious glances at her every so often. She raised her glass to him, he winked in response.

"Do you like it here, Beau, be honest?"

Beau's fingers almost hesitated on the keys but he kept playing. He managed an indifferent shrug which could be interpreted a million ways.

"Sometimes I really don't like it here," Bonnie smiled deprecatingly. "I don't have much in the way of family other than my friends, but at times…it's not enough." A beat. "Ever feel like people spend most of their time talking at you and _to_ you?"

Beau did feel that way at times. He stared at Bonnie askance.

"I hate when people do that to me. Makes me feel…less than, you know? I never really called anyone out on it before, but now things are at a point where I can't accept that kind of treatment, especially not from those I've put my life on the line for," she cleared her throat. "Forgive me, I'm rambling. Perhaps I should stop drinking," and to illustrate her point, Bonnie placed the crystal glass on the piano and pushed it away. "You're a very talented musician. You're talented period."

Beau wondered idly if Bonnie was flirting with him. She wasn't really looking at him or leaning closer, or even batting her eyelashes. Suspicion deepened the color of his dark brown irises but he didn't stop playing.

"I've gone through a lot and one of the lessons I'm learning is…" Bonnie did lean closer to him this time, close enough for her shoulder to touch his arm. Beau swallowed and focused intently on the keys. "When you have _power_ never be subservient to anyone who is undeserving of your gifts," she paused deliberately, racking her eyes along his profile, "You have a good night, Beau."

The moment she left, Lily appeared smiling warmly yet warily at her second favorite heretic. She draped a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you take a break, Beau, get yourself something to eat. Mary-Louise will fill in."

Nodding, Beau didn't instantly move to carry out Lily's bidding which made her blink. He continued playing and once he was finished _that's_ when he decided to go search for sustenance.

Damon intercepted Bonnie who jerked at the feel of his hand clasping her elbow.

"Hello to you, too, Damon."

"Hey nice seeing you," he replied flippantly and led Bonnie away from the crowd to the lit patio. He swung the witch in front of him who stared up at him—waiting. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean what am I doing? I'm trying to have a good time at this otherwise dismal party."

"So that entails smooching up to heretics and giving Enzo moon eyes?"

Bonnie began to retort but stopped as Damon's slightly accusatory words penetrated her ears. She folded her arms and smirked. "Why do you care who I'm talking to or what my eyes are doing to someone? And for the record I wasn't giving Enzo moon eyes. I was simply…playing him against the middle."

"Explain."

"Why when you can _watch_ ," Bonnie proceeded to fix his tie, smoothing it until it was perfectly aligned with the buttons of his shirt.

All right maybe she had one glass of champagne too many because the Bonnie Bennett Damon knew didn't touch him unless she absolutely had to, and she certainly didn't make sexual innuendos.

Observing the nonplussed expression miring Damon's features, Bonnie smiled softly and, after brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulders, she pulled her hands away. "You never stopped to question with all their power why the heretics blindly follow your mother? Those aren't babies we've been dealing with though at times they certainly behave like cooped up children. Without spoiling anything…you have your plan, Damon and I have mine. Question, which one won't leave bodies all over the place?"

A couple spilled out into the patio, the woman laughing inanely. Damon drew them farther away and lowered his voice. "I thought you were riding the crazy train with _me_ , Bonnie. I already have Stefan trying to fuck things up."

The young witch frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Let's just say he wants to expedite Julian's death for an unspecified reason."

"Well, you can't let him."

"Yeah I know which is why I need you with me a hundred percent," Damon insisted.

"And I am. Nothing's changed."

"You sure about that?"

"What are you trying to get at, Damon?"

"Nothing."

"Is that pout on your face about Enzo?" Bonnie smothered a giggle. "You think I'm into him that quickly?"

His tone was petulant and flat, "Yeah, well you looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"You don't need to worry, Damon my endgame hasn't changed."

"Which is?" he wanted clarification to make sure they were on the same page.

Bonnie switched her weight on her feet, but then inclined on her toes to whisper in his ear, "Crushing your mother's happiness. And I'll go through them all to do it."

 _Diabolical_ , Damon unconsciously licked his lips. He would let Bonnie do what she had to do, and try to keep his complaints to the minimum. Though he had to say he was intrigued about what trick Bonnie had up her sleeve. From what he observed so far he would say she was using the adage of catching more flies with honey than vinegar. If Bonnie managed to seize the heretics loyalty and Enzo's from Lily without his mother catching on, well it would prove she's a far better strategist then him.

"I want you to be absolutely certain this is the game you want to play," he said.

Bonnie reached for his hand giving it a squeeze. "I've never been more sure, Damon," she began walking backwards towards the boardinghouse. "Who knows, I might learn something about myself in the process."

Whether the lesson would be good or bad remained to be seen.

* * *

 _Ninety-three, the number of days she had lived within these walls and she still didn't feel…whole. Some days she could look at her reflection for a total of five seconds before the self-loathing started up again. The longest she clocked so far was twenty-nine seconds. That was almost thirty seconds, which would have been half a minute she could stand to see the person she allowed revenge and her own hubris to change her into someone unrecognizable or unlikable for that matter._

 _Roughly clearing her throat, Bonnie Bennett splashed water on her face. Today had been an intense day of group therapy. Irina, about the only friend she's made thus far, mocked their counselor basically debasing the poor woman that the lead psychiatrist had to be brought in to cool things down. Irina, she was the kind of woman movies were made about because her life literally read like a script from Hollywood. Brash, outspoken, defiant—things Bonnie secretly wished she had been during those crucial times instead of the subservient wallflower who got shit done often at her own expense._

 _Or a loved ones._

 _Bonnie's chin quivered but a knock on her door saved her from traveling down that path. Poking her head out of the bathroom, Bonnie yelled, "Yeah?"_

 _As if she conjured her, Irina stood in the threshold, cigarette dangling between her blood red lips. "Feel up to talking about our hoeism?" she smirked and welcomed herself inside Bonnie's cramped little room flouncing on the bed._

 _Wiping her hands and face, Bonnie quickly flicked her gaze to her reflection. Bags were under her eyes, lips and skin were sallow. She looked away and joined Irina opting to sit at the desk chair._

 _Bonnie tried to inject some cheer into her voice, "You know your stories are far more interesting than mine."_

" _Pfft," Irina snatched the cigarette out of her mouth. "As a reformed escort for DC politicians I'm pretty sure there's one sexual encounter story I haven't heard yet. Tell me. You're always so damn vague during group. Do you save it all for Warham? I bet you do," Irina grinned naughtily._

 _Bonnie ignored her grin and shuddered in repulsion. Warham, her one-on-one therapist, was at least seventy or in his late sixties. "That's disgusting, Irina."_

 _Shrugging, Irina directed her attention to Bonnie's neat desk. She didn't have much in the way of belongings. No one did as most things could be turned into weapons. She did, however, spot a nice looking journal in the center of the desk like it was a crown or something very valuable. The snoop in Irina wondered what secrets Bonnie wrote in it but knew asking would be pointless._

" _I'm gonna get you to crack one of these days," Irina said to Bonnie. "I refuse to believe I'm the only woman in the world who's fucked two brothers at the same time while their dad watched."_

 _Bonnie's eyes bulged. "Irina…please I don't need those kinds of images in my head."_

 _Irina snickered. "When's the last time you saw him?"_

 _Feeling nervous and exposed, Bonnie straightened her posture. "Saw who?"_

" _The guy whose name you constantly moan in your sleep."_

 _Flushing, Bonnie began to pick at a lint ball on her gray cardigan. "I don't know who you're talking about."_

 _Sitting up, Irina moaned, "_ Damon _."_

 _Cheeks officially overfilled with blood, Bonnie jolted to her feet. "I think I'm gonna hit the exercise room."_

 _Smirking, Irina knew a deflection when she spotted one. "Fine. I'm late for mess hall duties anyways. I just wanted to stop by and say hello," and with that she shuffled towards the door, yet stopped to face the only girl she deemed cool enough to actually talk to in this fascist asylum. "If he's haunting you, Bonnie don't you think it's time to figure out why? See, I do pay attention in group," she winked and ambled off cursing at an orderly in the process._

 _Alone in her quiet room, Bonnie thought. Irina was suggesting the one thing she couldn't do. Dealing with Damon meant dealing with herself, and sure she may have been in this institution to do that one thing…honestly she hadn't been giving it her all because she was afraid._

 _Afraid to face the facts that she killed…that she could do what she did to someone she loved more than she ever though she could love anyone._

 _She felt the flood of tears coming but hastily wiped her face._

 _Bonnie spied her journal that she hadn't touched since she admitted herself, and honestly had been too afraid to pen her thoughts; the ones that began after a change in a poorly orchestrated revenge plot took a fatal turn for the worst. Besides, what happened in the aftermath, no one could know._

 _She drifted to the desk and ran her fingers over the leather cover of the journal. Her heart rate increased and she felt the stirrings of a panic attack, but she pushed herself through it. Opening the flap, she purposely made her eye sight go out of focus. There was a picture there that was hard to stare at for long. But she could make out the contour of his jaw, the perfect line of his nose, those eyes that made her feel things in her head, heart, and yes her pussy._

 _Heat suffused within Bonnie and she felt herself sitting down and picking up a pen. A minute later she put it back down. As much as she'd like to deal with that skeleton she couldn't. Not now._

 _So she did as she told Irina, threw on her sneakers and headed to the exercise room. Afterwards she ate dinner, attempted a game of chess, and returned to her room where she showered._

 _Climbing into bed, Bonnie stared at all four corners of her room. Half of her secret was out. The other she didn't think it would remain hidden for long. Secrets were easier to keep if the other person was dead…like Damon…_

 _Rolling over, a tear rolled off the bridge of her nose. She could get over this so much faster if she didn't love him so gotdamn much._

* * *

It was two o'clock in the morning. She had a bottle of Laurent-Perrier tucked under her arm as she juggled her keys looking for the correct one.

The halls of her residential building were quiet but Bonnie heard the unmistakable sounds of someone playing video games, and someone else watching _Love & Hip-Hop Hollywood. _

Her toes were screaming for relief from their stiletto prison, and she felt a headache coming. Grumbling, Bonnie cautiously opened the door to her dorm room not quite sure what might be waiting for her on the other side. Luckily she hadn't walked in on Caroline and Stefan getting biblical with one another, but the witch knew it would only be a matter of time.

Thankfully the room was empty.

Storing the champagne in her mini-fridge, Bonnie shrugged out of her pea coat, unbuckled her shoes, and stomped to her bed.

Falling backwards on the mattress, her eyes closed. She was beginning to feel lost in her own mission. Tonight she found herself exuding the type of power she rarely had occasion to use. The power of the pussy. Her activities partner certainly wanted to take things one step farther, but Bonnie resigned herself to remain objective. Now, she'd have to sleep alone. Again.

The door to her bathroom flew open scaring the shit out of her. Bonnie sprang up ready to do battle, but simmered down and glowered once seeing the intruder.

"Damon what the hell are you doing here?"

He leaned his weight into the doorjamb measuring her attire, eyebrow raised in speculation. "Rick's piss poor excuse for a shower is busted, figured I'd use yours. Where are you coming from?"

Is steam really rising from his bare chest or are my eyes projecting? Bonnie shook her head. "I was doing research because I keep having visions about the phoenix stone. More specifically about me _absorbing_ the phoenix stone and being engulfed in bright light. I need to know what that means."

Curious, Damon strutted (in a towel) to join Bonnie on the bed who did her best not to stare…much. "How long have you been having visions about that and why are you dressed up to do research?"

Biting back a smile, Bonnie pulled off her lacy cardigan tossing it on her desk chair. "I may have had a date after doing research."

"With?"

"No one you need to be concerned with," she replied snippily.

Damon flashed a here and gone smile while the far recesses of his brain itched with dislike. He had a vague idea of whom Bonnie had been out with which meant she was still going full steam ahead with her plan of seducing Enzo _and_ each of the remaining heretics right from underneath his mother's nose. Damon wasn't sold if he liked the idea of Bonnie using her wiles to get ahead in life because it was so…it was so anti- _her._ Yet if it produced desirable results who was he to naysay?

Besides, he grumbled his plan wasn't making much leeway. Julian was still alive and under his mother and the heretics' protection. A hurdle he'd probably have to drive his Camaro though.

"You had a date with Enzo," the pissed vampire tried not to make it so obvious he was pissed.

Bonnie shook her head. "Nora."

Both of his eyebrows shot up. To be a fly on the wall when that happened. "Did you learn anything of value?"

"Not really. She's obsessed with Instagram and online shopping. She's bored and wants to have a good time. I can certainly commiserate with that," Bonnie rose to her feet to gather her things for bed.

"Besides doing research and possibly Nora," he joked, "is everything all right with you, Bon? We haven't gotten around to talking like we used to."

That was true Bonnie thought. It had been a few weeks since Damon hatched his strategy for revenge and she drunkenly tagged along. Her social calendar had become surprisingly full. Tending to a depressed Caroline because hell no one wanted a forced surprise pregnancy especially if you're dead _and_ especially if the babies you were carrying were your former teacher's (eww), sneakily greasing information about the heretics' weaknesses by partying it up with Nora, sharing books and long periods of silence with Beau, while avoiding Mary-Louise's claws and Enzo's suspicion.

She was neglecting possibly, at the moment anyways, her favorite person in the world. Bonnie flashed an apologetic look at Damon, but caught her eyes lingering and lingering. So much flesh to feast on.

"No, we haven't been keeping in touch lately and I'm sorry about that," Bonnie forced herself to look away. "Too many things to talk about so late at night and so far from dawn," she reached behind her for the zipper of her dress. She got it half way down before it snagged. "Can you help me?" she tossed a coy look over her shoulder.

Damon delivered his trademark, lopsided smirk as he hefted himself to his feet and strolled up to the witch. The dress she wore tonight complimented her skin tone as did many of the pieces she wore. It didn't show much in the way of cleavage but did reveal her legs. Legs that sometimes walked across the spaces of his mind.

He grasped the zipper and with one hard pull he got it down without breaking it.

"Thank you," she said.

"My pleasure."

How the word pleasure rolled off Damon's tongue for some inexplicable reason did something to her nether regions. Bonnie cleared her throat, face flushing with embarrassment.

She made her way into the bathroom to finish undressing, brush her teeth, and wash her face. Damon listened to the water run as he quickly toweled dry, shrugged into a plain white T-shirt and a pair of sweats. He had no plans to go anywhere. Caroline was with Stefan and since Bonnie arrived at her dorm alone he doubted she was expecting company.

As far as he was concerned it was their special bonding time. Everyone else had hogged her enough.

While he waited he let his eyes drift around the room and landed on the bedside table.

There was a worn copy of "The Coldest Winter Ever", a small chess board about the size of a tablet with unusual looking red pieces. Other than the lamp, a receipt from a local pizzeria there was a half-finished mug of black coffee. Damon added his cell phone to the collection of miscellaneous items.

He stacked Bonnie's pillows until they cushioned him just right, and tucked an arm behind his head. Damon let his mind wander for a moment and didn't speak until Bonnie was done grooming.

"You don't mind if I crash here tonight?"

Throwing a robe over her camisole top and plaid shorts, Bonnie shuffled out of the bathroom, hands on her hips. "It's not the first time you've done it."

"Just want to be sure you're not expecting anyone."

The question was leading and tickled Bonnie. "I'm not and if I were don't you think I would have kicked you out?"

"And pass up the opportunity to snuggle with this," he waved his hand down his body.

Green eyes rolled. Bonnie joined Damon on her bed, pushing him slightly so he'd move over. The twin sized mattress didn't offer much room to start with so when she lied down beside him their shoulders and legs touched.

"Truth?" she glanced at him with earnest viridian eyes.

"Always, witchy."

She smiled faintly at the nickname. "When I started this whole thing I knew what I wanted…now I find things becoming muddled. And it just hammers in that truth…in seeking revenge no one really wins because you barely have a soul intact once it's all over. My feelings feel all mixed up but I'm glad that… you're the most real thing to me right now. I hope I never lose you."

Damon was a bit floored because he never thought anything along those lines would ever come from Bonnie Bennett pertaining to him. Sure she might have said 'not really' after he joked about her wishing she could have been trapped with a billion other people, and she showed how much he came to mean to her by being the first person whose arms she literally jumped into upon coming back. Those, in his estimation had been extenuating circumstances, profound in their own right. This, what Bonnie just said was born from her heart.

Smiling lazily, Bonnie snuggled into her pillow quickly losing the battle against sleep.

He watched her as she drifted off. Brushing the pad of his thumb across her cheek, Damon said, "Same, Bonnie Bennett. I never want to lose you either."

* * *

 _The rust-colored chair she was seated on cushioned her ass but still felt too hard. She wasn't in to see Dr. Warham today but Dr. Magnusson. He was about twenty-five years younger and hundred times more handsome. But like his predecessor hadn't made much progress with Bonnie._

 _He sat across from her, tablet on his crossed legs, stylus in his hand waiting for her to open up, talk about anything. While he waited, he flipped through previous notes about her: withdrawn, superbly intelligent, shows an aptitude for languages and deductive reasoning, ails from deep seeded abandonment trauma. Now he may have to add insomnia to the list._

" _Why aren't you sleeping, Bonnie?"_

 _She swallowed. She knew it had been a mistake admitting to not getting much rest the last few days. Ever since Irina let it slip that she moaned Damon's name in her sleep, her mind refused to shut off at night._

" _I just haven't," she replied._

" _Something is weighing on your conscience. Do you want to tell me what it is? Do you know specifically what it is?"_

 _Her brows puckered and several muscles in her face twitched. "Um…I," Bonnie twisted her hands. "I betrayed a friend," she whispered throatily._

 _Dr. Magnusson perked up. That may have been Bonnie's biggest reveal yet in their sessions. He tempered his need to press on urgently before she scurried back in her safe space. "You and this friend were extremely close? We sometimes use the word friend to identify those we have associations with but not necessarily relationships, bonds."_

" _No, this was a friend," she attested vehemently. "The problem is…what I did…I don't really feel all that guilty about."_

" _That's why it's weighing on your conscience? Not the betrayal itself but that you don't feel remorse?"_

" _I feel remorse, Dr. Magnusson because I wish…I wished what I did…what we did happened a lot sooner."_

* * *

He squirmed against the mattress, groaning deeply in his throat, and stilled instantly.

A supple body lied beside him, the bottom of his chin being tickled by mahogany locks. Damon Salvatore began grinning and semi-squinting against the sunlight pouring into his bedroom. Wait…this wasn't his room. Angling his head for a better look, he made out the shape of a breast, a shoulder, the tip of a button nose, and a full cheekbone.

Mind a bit slow to process it wasn't Elena in his arms but Bonnie, Damon's immediate reaction was to jump out of bed and run before things became awkward.

He didn't.

Plopping his head back on the pillow, fingers racing up and down her arm, he stared at the ceiling.

Last night he had gotten some of the best sleep he had gotten in months, which should have been impossible since he was squeezed on a little tiny bed in a college dorm room with his best friend.

Running a hand through his hair, Damon counted the cracks in the ceiling. As right as this moment felt, a niggling sensation prickled along his spine. No, this wasn't right, the feelings crashing through him. He shouldn't be…content. Not because he didn't deserve to be in any capacity. No that wasn't the reason Damon's conscience was presently standing on a soapbox ordering him with a megaphone to get his ass out of bed, and away from Bonnie before they crossed a line there would be no going back from.

Damon told himself to chill. He was thinking too much about nothing, and there was no need to make a bigger deal about spending a strictly platonic night with a friend.

However Bonnie might not feel the same way. So as quietly and stealthily as he could, Damon untangled his legs with Bonnie's and slid to the edge of the bed.

One green eye popped open, the other covered by a shroud of hair. Damon paused, lost for words at the unconsciously seductive picture Bonnie painted.

"Morning," she rasped.

"Morning."

Bonnie swallowed as she stretched her arms and toes. "About to do the walk of shame?"

"There wouldn't be any shame in getting caught leaving this room," he grinned.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby. You?"

"Fretful. Some _thing_ kept poking me in the butt."

Damon's grin became downright wicked. "I would apologize for that if I had any scruples." Pause. "I should go and let you get some real sleep."

"No, stay," Bonnie pleaded reaching for him, an uncharacteristic show of vulnerability revealing itself. "It's been…it's been so long since someone has…since I've been held. Could you?"

The enormity of how long Bonnie had been without human or even supernatural contact crashed into Damon. Nodding, he fell back into bed, spooning Bonnie, arm draped over her waist.

After a while she turned to face him staring at Damon in a way she never had before, in a way that sent signals to his brain reminding him he was in bed with a woman and it had been months since he last fucked.

He tried to shove those thoughts aside, but now that they were here, they wouldn't go away.

For Bonnie it was the same. Damon was so close and even with puffy lips and bed head he was the sexiest man to ever be this close to her. She swallowed and the sound echoed in her ears. Bonnie wondered if Damon could hear her heart beginning to pound.

That singular urge in him that he caged was the only thing he was thinking about the most. His body campaigned to lead and his mind was within an inch of conceding, but he couldn't do this.

Bonnie waited expectantly for him to make a move one way or the other. Her eyes weren't exactly glazed over with love or lust, not even doubt. Whatever decision he chose to make she'd be fine with and wouldn't take it personally.

Just one little insignificant kiss, he thought. But was a kiss ever insignificant?

Damon touched her, just a brush of his fingers along her hairline. Bonnie sighed and closed her eyes like she had been starved for that one touch her entire life. And it wasn't anything sexual about it, but his body responded, hardening. His baser self took over and he forgot about the Damon who wrote in a journal professing to have locked his heart inside of a coffin. He didn't exactly need his heart to do this (although it did help with blow flow). He wanted to feel, too. He wanted to forget and remember at the same time. Damon moved forward, Bonnie's warmth guiding him.

Their lips touched and he died. Their bodies tangled and he moaned too loudly for his own good. His mind went into overdrive. Her lips were so soft.

Vaguely, Damon wondered if he was clutching Bonnie too tightly, but the mewls in his ear spoke of the contrary. His hand, it sat out to touch the caramel girl glued to his chest, absorb her warmth through tepid fingertips. Bonnie was impossibly warm, bordering on feverish to the point _he_ got goosebumps. Their lips danced the samba, slowed to a waltz; their tongues had yet to be introduced. Bonnie changed that by opening her mouth allowing Damon inside.

Fully immersed in the kiss (that probably should have ended minutes ago), the heat increased even more as Damon inched his way between Bonnie's thighs. Their cores touched, hard and wet; thin barriers of clothing segregating cunt and cock.

Damon trailed a hand silkily along her ribs smiling slightly every time Bonnie jumped a bit at his touch. That same hand squeezed her hip, and the underside of her thigh hitching Bonnie's leg higher around his waist. He unconsciously thrust sending a bolt of pleasure and pain through the witch's quivering pussy. The scent of her arousal thickened, clouding Damon's head, goading the bloodthirsty monster in him to come out to play. For blood and sex went together for a vampire like politicians and lying. One of them should toss a flag on the field.

Several objections ran through Bonnie's mind, each one she pushed aside in favor of feeling. Feeling loved, feeling desired, feeling needed. It made her sound desperate and clingy but was no less the truth. Anytime she thought Damon might pull away, Bonnie held on tighter. If he could bruise there would be discolored marks along his shoulders, neck, and lower back; evidence of her lust.

Her mouth and tongue ached deliciously and she was given a moment to breathe, but her intake of air was cut off abruptly when Damon touched her dripping wet twat.

She hissed and every erogenous zone came to life dying to be teased, fondled, licked.

That should have been the moment Bonnie ordered a cease and desist, but she didn't. Only rolled her hips, silently coaxing Damon's fingers to explore her depths more thoroughly. Lose his fingers and his soul in her.

Damon groaned and swallowed the thick glob of saliva that pooled in his mouth. Liquid silk wet the seat of her panties. He hadn't touched her skin on skin—yet and the blue-eyed lothario straddled the fence. They were perhaps yards from crossing the point of safe return. The blood in his head and dick were at odds, however, the odds shifted the moment Bonnie spread her legs a hair wider and whispered, "Please."

Damon pulled back some taking in her kiss swollen mouth and flushed face. Bonnie did the same, brushing raven strands of hair out of his half-lidded orbs, tracing and leaving behind a path of fire along the outer shell of his red-tipped ear.

It was so quiet, so completely still they weren't even sure if the world was still moving. Their heads, undoubtedly, were spinning. Bonnie made the first move slipping her delicate shoulders out of her robe, lifting up enough to slide it out from under her, dropped it on the floor. As if this were high stakes poker, Damon raised her a thousand by pulling off his T-shirt.

 _This man is a work of art,_ Bonnie shivered and she didn't mean his bulging biceps or that magnificent V, but the way he was both angel and devil in looks and temperament.

He spread his big hands across her taut stomach pushing her top up exposing knotted abdominals, and didn't stop until the underside of her breasts were visible. He brushed his thumbs across those fatty globes coming perilously close to fondling her erect nipples. By the skin of his teeth he resisted. Bonnie glared, he smirked in return. A solitary finger made a painless incision down the middle of her torso, circled her navel, continuing south, and in one fell swoop Bonnie was divested of her shorts and pre-cum saturated panties.

The green-eyed beauty felt herself becoming shier and wetter at the potently lascivious expression on Damon's face. She could come from that look alone. Her drenched sex didn't monopolize his attention, but he stared unabashed at her entire body, memorizing her topography. The more he looked at her, the darker his irises became until they were damn near black with lust. She observed, mesmerized, as those telltale veins wriggled beneath Damon's eyes and he unconsciously grimaced showing a hint of fang. More arousal bled out of her at the sight.

Bonnie missed the opportunity to retreat to familiar ground as Damon gently plunged two fingers in her hot vulva.

Her spine arched off the bed, hands gripping the sheets, a guttural moan snatched out of the writhing witch. Damon swallowed another pool of saliva as he began to piston his fingers in and out of Bonnie while thumbing her clit—his cock jealous. Feeling those elastic bands of slippery, gooey muscles contracting around his fingers was almost too much for his deprived mind and body to handle. And Damon loathed to compare and contrast, but vampires didn't get hot like this, didn't get wet like this. Sex was a game of domination. It felt good but failed to leave him numb and stupid and Damon was pretty certain he'd fall victim to both if he impaled Bonnie on his dick right now.

Fuck it.

Damon regrettably pulled his drenched fingers out of Bonnie earning a grunt of disapproval. He smirked, smearing her juices on two fingers, sampled it. "Damn, you're sweet."

Bonnie flushed and wasn't given the chance to reply before Damon slid his wet fingers across her lip so she could taste herself. While she tentatively did, Damon shucked his sweatpants, rock-hard cock pointing up nearly touching his belly.

She wasn't sure how wide her eyes were stretched but they felt like they were twice their normal size. Bonnie didn't want to miss a single inch. She had chickened out in taking a peek at Damon's merchandise before their impromptu trip to Myrtle Beach. Now she drunk her fill, yearning to touch, sample…trace the crisscrossing veins in his shaft with her tongue before sucking the bulbous head in her eager mouth.

That must have read plain as day on her face for Damon thought, "some other time". Pussy, _her_ pussy far too heavy on his mind to feel anything else surrounding his cock.

However he needed to know one thing first. "Are you sure?"

"Are _you_ sure?"

A flare of doubt swept through the immortal that he shrugged off. Consequences were bound to come from this, but he lived by the moment. The moment being: get into Bonnie as fast and (maybe as often) as he could.

In reply, Bonnie yanked her shirt off removing the last barrier of modesty.

He swallowed. Her pendulous breasts filled his vision and seeing them in person nearly matched his fantasies. Yes, he had nasty thoughts about Bonnie. He was a straight male; she was an attractive woman with a killer ass. Of course he looked and daydreamed. Had one-on-one and threesomes with her in his mind.

Damon made a beeline for her left tit, dropping an open-mouth kiss above the puckered areola. He hummed when Bonnie threaded her fingers in his hair massaging his scalp. Her sharp nails grazed him then pierced the minute he tongued her nipple enclosing his entire mouth around that dusky pebble. Swiping his tongue back and forth, up and down, diagonally across. Bonnie's head thrashed on the pillow. Gads how much she missed being titty sucked. Slowly, Damon detached, a thin line of spit connecting the tip of his tongue to Bonnie's blissfully stimulated nipple.

He paid ample attention to her neglected bud making it wet and hard. Bonnie let out a choked shriek when Damon pushed her tits together and sucked both nipples simultaneously.

Clit throbbing spastic breaths was all Bonnie could manage.

Damon knew she was ready, practically about to _blow_. Her sweet arousal became headier as he kissed up her chest, neck, bit her chin and attacked her mouth with the same intensity as fighting for his life. Lining himself up at her entrance, Damon's right hand drifted between their bodies, grabbing the base of his dick, stroked himself, squeezed right under the hood.

Their eyes connected. Bonnie braced herself almost about to weep she was so ready. She, too, dipped a hand between them and opened her slit.

"Mmm," she moaned as Damon teased her clit and then she became irrevocably breathless and cried out because there was a twinge of pain, he was _huge,_ Damon sank into her inch by torturous inch, not stopping until she was full, until he was buried to the hilt—bottomed out, well almost.

Nine inches was _a lot_ to take in.

Neck thrown back to the point the crown of her head practically touched the bed, Bonnie bit so deeply into her bottom lip she damn near drew blood. Damon had a similar reaction; her pussy was so tight and wet he went cross-eyed for a moment.

They kissed hungrily as Damon began a slow, coaxing rhythm in which Bonnie rocked her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. His long pipe stroked her sensuously, hitting that special spot that opened floodgates.

Witch and vampire clutched one another, bodies sliding impatiently. Damon did his best to go slow, to draw this out, but it had been too long and Bonnie felt too good, better than good. He didn't want to say she was the best he ever had, but shit she was close. The friction of Bonnie's supple curves and mouth-watering tits against his torso made it seem his head was floating several feet above his shoulders.

He buried his face in her neck, swore, "Gotdamn you feel so good."

A breathy hiss escaped bowed lips and tickled the space where Damon's neck and shoulder met. The sensation spurred him to fuck Bonnie deeper and harder, his lower back and hips working in concert like a locomotive as he hammered her sweet gushy stuff.

Bonnie was fairly positive she came the moment Damon entered her and she felt her zenith coming again. The blue-eyed vampire did something pure evil by pulling out of her. Her complaints were cut off as she was rolled on her belly, her hips raised slightly off the mattress.

Without warning, Damon slammed into her.

"Ahhh," Bonnie's arms shot out, hands bracing against the headboard that rammed the wall. And it kept ramming the wall as Damon pounded the little witch beneath him.

He nipped her shoulder, worming a hand around her chin bringing her face to his to kiss her again.

Arching her back feeling Damon slip just that much farther in her channel, Bonnie screwed her eyes shut. Was he in her stomach? Fuck, it felt like he was. The fire began in her toes. She was gonna come and from the way Damon was moving he was nowhere near being finished.

"I'm about to…unhnnn…I'm co—oh… _Damon_ …please!"

He grinned and began playing with her clit to help her along, "Come on, witchy," he whispered, " _Ride my cock,"_ he slapped her ass and watched himself appear and disappear between those jiggling mounds.

His dirty words coupled with him flicking her overly sensitive flap of nerves sent Bonnie straight into the arms of heated pleasure. She screamed and something in the room shattered. Her juices dripped down her legs and landed on the mattress.

Bonnie was limp and spent but found herself on top of Damon seemingly without pause, or allowed the time to recover from one orgasm before having another. In this new position, Damon's still erect member was notched between the lips of her pussy inspiring Bonnie to massage the shaft up and down.

Damon's toes curled, "Don't stop. Not yet."

She kept going smearing her juices on him, bucking her hips as if she were riding a wave. "You like that?" she asked huskily. "You want me to fuck you?" a wicked gleam came into Bonnie's eyes. It was empowering having someone like Damon at her total mercy.

"Hell…yeah," he licked his lips and grabbed Bonnie's breasts. Damon lifted his hips and entered her sweltering core once more.

They groaned in unison.

Bonnie had only done this a few times, but one thing she learned that drove Jeremy absolutely wild was rotating her hips in a figure eight while tightening her inner muscles. She tried it out on Damon who hissed a groan and stiffened.

"You'll do anything for me right?" Bonnie did her trick again.

Damon's hold on her hips turned bruising. He couldn't think right now. But he'd agree to anything just so long as she didn't stop riding him.

"Right, Damon?"

"Yes…right…anything for you."

"Promise?"

"You have my word."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Bonnie!"

"Good," Bonnie stopped, reared up before coming down hard on Damon.

He shouted.

Half an hour later, rutting into Bonnie missionary style, bed springs going crazy, the squishy sound of a dick plowing into an overly wet twat, Damon's balls tightened, heat rushed from his spine, and he grunted, "fuck…fuck…fuck ohhhhh shit…argh!"

Spurt after spurt of cum drenched the witch who was busy hitting falsetto notes, playing with her clit, middle finger working furiously.

"Da…Dam… _Damonnnnn!_ " Bonnie cried.

She tumbled after him unsure if she'd ever be able to form a coherent thought again. Damon stared at her in something akin to awe.

Sweaty, red-faced, gazes locked on one another Bonnie smiled to which Damon reciprocated. Bending his head he laid a chaste kiss on her mouth.

Leaving the warmth of her body was the last thing Damon desired, but he did, sliding wet and semi-flaccid out of Bonnie. He lied beside her.

Each needed a moment to come down from their high, mellow out. So they said nothing using only gentle caresses of their hands do the talking for them.

Damon's goal was to say something profound along the lines of Walt Whitman or Henry Kissinger. What came out was, "That was the _shit_."

Giggling, Bonnie curled on her side, legs doing interesting things because they were numb, upper thighs sticky. "I agree. I can't believe we did that," her eyes widened.

"I know. How do you feel?"

"Thoroughly fucked. You?"

Damon laughed boisterously. "Same."

Bonnie languished in afterglow not wanting to listen to a single pessimistic thought in her brain. She didn't want to question what this meant, where things would go from here between them. Merely transferred her head to Damon's chest who wrapped his arms around her, kissed her head and they both fell asleep.

When they woke up a few hours later, Bonnie sent him on a mission to get her some food.

He kissed her, "Don't go anywhere."

"I won't."

"And we'll…talk once I get back."

"Of course."

Another kiss and he was out the door. Bonnie sighed, rolled on her belly, her gaze traipsing to the chessboard on the bedside table. Her hand hovered before she knocked the knight over.

Scrawled on the bottom was Damon's name. In fact, the names of everyone connected to her, and yes Lily and her heretics were inscribed on individual chess pieces.

Bonnie was building an empire one pawn at a time.

* * *

 _The session with Dr. Magnusson over, Bonnie pulled out a chest she kept hidden beneath her bed. She blew the dust off the top, flipped open the hood and inside where those chess pieces._

 _Enzo had come to see her a few days ago telling her things were bad, but she told him she couldn't leave. She wasn't ready, she needed more time._

 _Bonnie rifled through the pieces searching for the one that symbolized Damon. That encounter between them in her dorm room led to others, but in the end she couldn't hold on to him anymore than she could hold on to Grams, her dad, Abby. He was gone. She was never going to see him again. And it was her fault. This time she didn't stop her tears from flowing._

 _A tissue manifested in front of her face that made Bonnie frown. Her head jerked up to see who slipped into her room unawares._

 _Her eyes became saucers and her mouth plopped open in incredulous shock. "I really am crazy."_

 _A wicked smirk greeted her. "No more than I am. Why, Bon-Bon you look like you've seen a ghost."_

~Fini~

 **A/N: Thoughts, feelings, opinions? Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think. Oh and again just to reiterate, the italics represent the future, regular text is what's currently happening…if I were writing the show that is. *Wink* Love you kittens.**


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